To Love Your Enemy
by CandlesAndCanaries
Summary: Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel are two of New York's main rivals in the modelling circuit, constantly in competition for photoshoots but have never actually met. When they finally meet at an important fashion show, things become out of control and everything changes. AU! Model!Klaine (Rated M for later chapters)
1. Teen Vogue - April 2013

**A/N:** Hey guys, decided to start (yet another) fanfic because this one has been bugging me for a while in my mind now and I've planned it and everything, so yeah, here it is and it's called To Love Your Enemy. Enjoy and please review :)

* * *

_**Teen Vogue - April 2013 edition**_

_**PAGE 21 - NOTEWORTHY MODELS FOR 2013**_

_Name: Blaine Devon Anderson  
__Age: 22  
__Style: Subtly sexy  
__Notable features: Olive complexion, dark gelled hair, hazel eyes, charming smile  
__Interesting fact: Brother of TV & Film actor, Cooper Anderson  
__Greatest achievement: Nominated for People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive 2012/Fashion Night Out 2012 - Featured Model  
__Motto: "Don't follow the fashion; be the fashion."_

_Name: Kurt Elizabeth Hummel  
__Age: 23  
__Style: Smart, graceful & pristine  
__Notable features: Pale complexion, brunette coiffed hair, glasz eyes, rosy cheeks  
__Interesting fact: Originally applied for NYADA but pursued modelling after he wasn't accepted into the school.  
__Greatest achievement: Winner of National Show Choir competition in senior year of high school  
__Motto: "Fashion has no gender."  
_

_(See page 8 for Kurt Hummel's main feature interview)_

_Name: Santana Diabla Lopez  
__Age: 24  
__Style: Fabulously fierce  
__Notable features: Light tan complexion, black flowing hair, brown eyes, fearless attitude  
__Interesting fact: Head cheerleader during senior year of high school  
__Greatest achievement: Winner of National Show Choir competition in senior year of high school  
__Motto: "Life is a fashion show, so always look your best."_

* * *

Blaine lay in bed on the day of the magazine release. He couldn't believe that it had happened again. He was permanently applying for magazine shoots and fashion shows, only to be competing against another Ohio-born model who was apparently a hit with the New York fashion circuit. Granted, this same model was also losing out on jobs because of Blaine; their feud was notoriously known throughout the fashion scene in New York, expanding out into other fashion capitals of the world. There were forums and blogs dedicated to the Anderson-Hummel fashion feud, websites that Blaine avoided in case any arguments weren't in his favour.

Another thing which really annoyed Blaine was that he had never met his main rival, largely because either one or the other got the job, with no chance of scoping out the competition due to private application processes. He had only seen Kurt Hummel as a glossy magazine page or as pixels on a website. There was one time when he saw his rival modelling for Calvin Klein on a billboard in Times Square; that was the worst month of his life because Blaine knew that should have been him.

He didn't understand everyone's appeal towards Kurt Hummel. Blaine assumed that the airbrushing and make-up and lighting automatically made him appear attractive, but Blaine would bet anything that Kurt Hummel was nowhere near as attractive in person. He knew that the magazines all edited his appearance to make him look the best he possibly could and Kurt Hummel's situation was probably no different, or maybe even more of a situation than Blaine had to deal with.

Blaine heard the door of his apartment open and close again, the animated chattering of his roommates seeping through the cracks between the door and its frame. Blaine shifted in his bed slightly, pulling the comforter over his head to try and tune out the mumbles. He wanted to be alone. Teenaged girls (and a few guys too) from all over the USA were going to be flicking through page after page of their monthly issue of Teen Vogue to read about 'Kurt Hummel's Journey Into Modelling.' whilst Blaine had been demoted to just the 'Noteworthy Models of 2013' section; a brief summary of him with a shot from his Q&A article 6 months ago. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for that, but he would have rather that he was the one with the main article. After all, this business is highly competitive and he wanted more than anything to be the top dog.

Blaine ignored the tap on the door followed by the accompanying squeak. More light began to creep through his sheets and he could tell that his brunette roommate, Nick, was the intruder. Jeff, his other roommate, would never draw the curtains. Jeff knew that he would face penalty of death if he even dared despite the protection of his boyfriend in the next room. Blaine groaned as he pushed the covers off his face, "Nick, go away! Today's a terrible day and you know it!"

Nick ignored him, holding a copy of Teen Vogue in his hand, open on page 8. Blaine gave him a dirty look, but Nick ignored it as he sat at the end of Blaine's bed, reading aloud, "Vogue: What do you have to say about your main rival, Blaine Anderson? Kurt: I've never had the pleasure of meeting Blaine because he's constantly applying for the same jobs as me, but I can't deny that he's good-looking. I believe we're both attending the Gucci Summer Collection Show at the end of the month, so maybe I'll find out who the man behind the competition really is."

Blaine laughed at Nick's faux impersonation of Kurt Hummel before scowling at the response his rival had given, "Let me translate." He snatched the magazine out of Nick's hands, before he decided to check that he was definitely wearing any briefs seeing as he was shirtless, just in case. He cleared his throat and made an extra effort to make fun of Kurt Hummel's voice, "'I am so glad that I have never met Blaine Anderson because he takes half my jobs, and when I do meet him, I doubt my impression of him will change. His redeeming quality is that he is the sexiest man out there and I would love to get my hands on him."

"You know he doesn't mean the last part, right?" Nick replied, trying not to burst in a fit of laughter that Blaine could so easily get him into.

Blaine snorted, "He totally meant that and you know it. What does Jeff have to say about all this? He did Hummel's make-up for this shoot after all."

Both men jumped on the spot when they heard Jeff's voice from the doorway as he casually leant against the frame, "Kurt's so nice and I honestly think you two would get on better than you do with Nick and me. If you two joined forces and stopped holding a grudge against each other, you'd be the ultimate duo of the modelling world."

Blaine retorted, "Great, you just made us sound like a couple. Why would you even, Jeffery?"

He shrugged and advanced over to the end of the bed, sitting down and putting his arm around his boyfriend, "That was implied. If you thought that then that's your own problem."

Nick chuckled lightly as he leant in to kiss his boyfriend but Blaine warned, "Not in my bedroom. You promised me anywhere but my bedroom."

Nick turned back to Blaine and gave him a sympathetic smile, "Just think. The end of the month is the ultimate duel between the two of you. Face-to-face, outfit-to-outfit, style-to-style. And you'll win hands down." Jeff hummed in agreement as Blaine pulled the sheets back over his head, now tired of them.

There was a moment's silence before Blaine groaned, "I hate him."

"We know." Nick sighed in response, "But I'm sure that soon enough, the fashion world will decide that you are the king of fashion and that Hummel is miles behind you."

Blaine chuckled slightly, "We'll see." A pause filled the air before he continued, "Can I be alone now? I want to daydream about being the king of fashion."

"As you wish." Jeff responded as the two men stood up, shifting the weight on the bed and causing Blaine to bounce slightly due to the springiness. Blaine groaned as he was shifted from his comfortable position.

He waited until he heard the door click closed before he began to think about his situation fully. Gucci had always been loyal to Blaine when he was competing for modelling jobs with them against Kurt Hummel. They weren't looking for a feminine male to model the majority of their collections. In fact, come to think of it, this was the first time Kurt Hummel had been called in by Gucci to model for them. Blaine wasn't in the least bit surprised that this was the first, and probably would be the only, time this had happened. He also figured out that he would be walking down that catwalk with the best outfit in the collection; last time he had worked for them, the supervising fashion designer, Raul, had admitted that in every collection, there was a unanimous agreement amongst all the designers that one outfit was better than the rest and that that outfit was featured on a full page and the front cover of their latest catalogue. Blaine had appeared on the front of their catalogue for three separate collections. He knew that they were loyal to him. At least his outfit would help him to prove he was the top dog of modelling in New York.

But what would really help is the fact that he was Blaine Devon Anderson: nominee for People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive 2012; Dalton Academy Warblers superstar; Fashion Night Out 2012's featured model; the male model with the ultimate style and attitude. That's something that Kurt Hummel lacked: attitude. It wasn't so much that he didn't use the standard strut and head nods and turns; it was that he didn't make it seem like he owned the shoot, almost as if he was a puppet and not a model. There was no way that Kurt Hummel would last much longer unless he began to gain a hell of a lot more attitude, and Blaine smiled at his own thoughts when he realised that Kurt Hummel would not last much longer in the business. Blaine's jobs were safe, and soon he'd have even more to himself, because the other male models in the business were no match for him on the scale of the labels he auditioned for. Even Kurt Hummel barely made the cut 75% of the time.

Soon, New York's fashion scene would be his and his alone, or so Blaine believed.

* * *

Kurt turned the key in his apartment's door and walked through with a bounce in his step. Sliding the door closed, he thought about how life couldn't be better. His new Teen Vogue cover came out today, complete with photo-shoot and interview; another cover that Rachel will have bought for herself as well to frame it and put it on the 'wall of achievement' she had created for her and her roommates upon their great successes here in New York. Kurt didn't have the heart to tell her that it was conceited and rather creepy because she was so excited when Kurt's first cover came out just days after Santana's, with her first Broadway poster following a couple of weeks afterwards.

Kurt was aware of just how lucky they had all be. He had been denied entry to NYADA 5 years ago but hadn't looked back since, seeking a new approach. His internship at helped him a lot in making his decision, especially when many of the designers, photographers and journalists had kept trying to direct him to shoots thinking that he was a model.

He didn't believe that he was attractive in any way. Granted, he did have some assets that people might find attractive but he didn't see it at all on a personal level. He had figured that that's what helped him in his journey since deciding to make it as a model. He didn't get complacent over the fact that people thought he was attractive. There was no time for that. Instead, he just did as he was directed to do, as well as turning up for auditions and interviews.

An audition isn't what you'd expect to be, like with a show or a movie. An audition was where designers, photographers, make-up artists, journalists and managers alike would study you: your face, your body, your posture, your attitude, your everything. As time got on, these auditions became much shorter as they had seen him time and time again. He even once just walked into the room at Ralph Lauren and was told he had the job.

He shrugged his jacket off and turned around to see Santana sitting on the sofa in their 'living room', which was really just the same area of their loft apartment that they had sectioned off 5 years ago. She looked annoyed as she scrolled on her iPad, only looking up when Kurt sat on the recliner next to the sofa. She huffed, "Oh good, you're home. Look at what Anderson has been tweeting."

Kurt rolled his eyes but took the iPad from her hands. Blaine Anderson was his main rival, although he had never met the man. Kurt had decided that he couldn't judge Blaine based on the fact that they auditioned for the same shoot and sometimes Blaine got the job instead. Kurt didn't hate him at all; Blaine was just trying to make his way in New York like he, Rachel, Finn and Santana were. He was in the same boat, right up to the fact that Blaine also had moved from Ohio.

Kurt read the three tweets that had gotten Santana all fired up:

**_Just seen KEHummel's Teen Vogue issue. I could wear that white blazer too. I'd wear it better. Nice one, Teen Vogue!_**

**_Gucci Summer Collection 2013: bring it on. Can finally show some of these amateurs a thing or two!_**

**_How do 2 models live together? Surprised there hasn't been a murder scene down in Bushwick after a fight over trends #disappointing_**

Kurt shrugged and passed the iPad back, "He's just being his usual cocky self. I don't see the problem."

Santana sniped back, "The problem is is that he is targeting us and ruining our image. We've been building a wholesome, down-to-earth reputation, and he's just being obnoxious and a bully."

Kurt sat back in the recliner, his face remaining neutral, "So? He's being a jerk, yes. But you can't judge a book by its cover, Santana. That's what everyone does with us; they judge us by our looks and our attitude, but we can't afford to think like that. We've got to know a person well enough before we can decide whether or not to like them. So that's why as of next month, I'll either be bitching with you or telling you that you've gotten it all wrong."

"And what makes you think I may have gotten it all wrong?" Santana huffed as she threw her tablet carelessly on the sofa next to her, causing Kurt to wince slightly at her negligence.

"Because..." Kurt paused to muse over Santana's question, "Because I think that once he gets to know me, we'll be able to relate on some level. We're both openly gay male models who are trying to make our way in New York having been raised in Ohio, struggling against homophobia and bullying. There will be things we can talk about and who knows? People can surprise you, Santana."

Santana shook her head, "Remember my Mexican third eye? Remember Brody? Remember Kyle? I haven't been wrong once about anyone since I got here 4 and a half years ago, Hummel." She stood up and walked towards the curtained-off area of her and Finchel's bedroom, having bought a bed for herself after the sofa had decidedly been too uncomfortable after sleeping on it for a year. She turned around to glare at Kurt, "Please, for the love of all the good things in this world, will you please show Anderson what you're made of at the Gucci Summer Collection Show?"

Kurt chuckled at her question, "Oh, don't worry about that. Once we're out on that catwalk, all's fair in fashion and business."

Santana drew back the curtain, quickly mumbling in response, "Good." She walked through to her room and violently pulled the curtain across. Kurt could hear her sit down angrily as the bed springs squeaked over an extended period of time.

Once the squeaking stopped, Kurt had time to think. He thought about how Blaine Anderson seemed to have a grudge against him for all the wrong reasons. Blaine and him were different in many ways, but with that came similarities. They both grew up in Ohio under homophobic communities and were both on the same career path in the same big city. What made them different was that Blaine got away from the bullying in sophomore year, had a chance to make a name for himself and to be who he was without having to suffer through insults and taunts through all of high school. Blaine had a better chance at becoming less damaged and less fragile by any negative comments and reviews, therefore creating an attitude that was to die for when it came to modelling.

Kurt didn't have the attitude he should have when on shoots or strutting down the runway. He was surprised that he made it as a model at all. His Vogue mentor, Isabelle, had told him about how the fashion world was looking for more graceful models, and apparently he fit the part. Isabelle was the one to give him the final push between designing and modelling. Without her, he would have been designing clothes for Blaine to wear instead of competing against him in one of New York's most competitive career paths. But he didn't regret the decision for one second, and was glad he had a fairy godmother like Isabelle.

His train of thought was interrupted by the door sliding open. In came Rachel and Finn, hand-in-hand, discussing wedding details. Rachel was determined that after the whole break-up situation a few years back that she would rekindle her love with the one person that had truly ever mattered to her by way of being in love. Of course, Kurt and Santana mattered too, but on a friendship level instead of a relationship level.

Finn fell back onto the sofa before Rachel had even closed the door. He closed his eyes and rested his head back over the top of the sofa cushions. He looked exhausted, but it didn't surprise Kurt in the least. Finn went from working 3-hour shifts at the local 7/11 to anything up to 8 hours a day in lesson time, having become a dramatic arts teacher in an Alphabet City high school, as well as marking essays, running workshops and planning lessons for the weeks ahead. On top of all that, he was also planning a wedding; not the simple wedding Rachel and him almost had twice during senior year, but a full-on, extravagant wedding that was costing thousands of dollars. Thank grilled cheesus that Rachel was the breadwinner in the relationship. Kurt knew that on Finn's salary, he'd have to work for almost 6 more years before being able to afford it all.

Rachel sat down next to him, finally taking a breath from talking for what looked like a long time judging by Finn's relieved expression. Kurt smiled a little at his stepbrother, knowing how difficult Rachel could be. Kurt was reminded of this as she spoke directly to him, "We saw Kyle in Starbucks just now."

Kurt held back a snort, "Did he make it out alive or did Finn throw a chair at him like the last time Brody came over to get the last of his things?"

Rachel rubbed her fiancé's leg comfortingly as he shifted guiltily in memory of that day, "We were civil to him. He broke up with me because he was intimidated by my talent and Broadway status, remember? It wasn't like he had ever fallen out of love with me." Finn looked up at her and scowled as she continued, "But I was never really in love with him. It was always you, sweetie. No matter how many guys I meet, I'll always be with you because in August, we'll be married."

Kurt stood up, his body language negative and annoyed, "You know what? That's great, Rachel. That's truly fantastic."

He began to walk into his partition of the loft when Rachel walked up behind him, "What's that tone for?"

He turned around, fists clenched by his side, "Let's see. My magazine cover came out today, which you haven't even so much as congratulated me on. You won't stop talking about the wedding and Broadway. Seriously, Rachel, it makes me not want to go to a Broadway show or a wedding ever again. I have Blaine Anderson bad-mouthing me on Twitter, and I have to meet him at the end of the month. Plus, I have to deal with Santana dragging her bed into my room every other night, both of us wearing ear plugs or bonding over how we're having to live with a sexually active couple. In fact, she's currently higher than you in the friends' rankings because of how self-absorbed you're being. I'm sorry, but we agreed that I would get my own space because I have the smaller room. Right now, I just can't take any more crazy about how you have guys after you like it means nothing, when it actually means something to other people, and I haven't had a relationship since Adam four years ago, when I should have gone against my better judgement when you introduced us at that Christmas party. What are you trying to achieve? Are you trying to make me feel bad about my life more than I already do? Well, guess what? It's working."

He didn't stop to listen to Rachel's crazy response, but instead pulled the curtain across angrily behind him before falling onto the bed and shoving a pillow over his head. Under normal circumstances, he would love Rachel but it was times like now when she wasn't even tolerable.

Here he was, in the Big Apple, with a great job and mostly supportive friends, but he was stuck in a loft in Bushwick after five years, wishing that he could upgrade to an apartment in Manhattan. The only thing holding him back was that both Santana and Finn begged him to stay after voicing his opinion whilst Rachel was at work one evening. He had offered to take them both with him, but Finn had remarked that he would being leaving his fiancée when they had just worked things out, and Santana made some snide comment about the effort of moving.

Kurt felt his phone vibrate in his jeans pocket. He reached down and slid it out, pushing the pillow away from his face. He opened his phone, angrily pressing on the screen as he opened his texting app and read the latest text received:

_**From: Jeff Sterling  
**__Hey, sorry about Blaine's tweets this morning. I hope you're not mad at him for any of them. I honestly think that if you two got to know each other then you'd be good friends but he's being stubborn - Jeff_

_**To: Jeff Sterling  
**__Hi Jeff. It's fine. I'm fine. He can be a jerk if he wants to, but I'm not mad at him. I can't judge someone until I know them. I think it would be unlikely that we would ever be friends though - Kurt_

Kurt looked up when he heard the curtain of his room draw back, and then closed again. Santana stood next to his bed, arms crossed, a rare sympathetic look on her face, "Thank you."

"For what?" Kurt questioned quietly so that way Rachel didn't hear him. He didn't want her coming in and starting an entirely new issue by accusing him of hating her. He didn't hate her. He just hated how she was being right now.

Santana perched on the edge of his bed as he sat up to rest his back against the bricks of their loft's outer walls, "For having a rant at Rachel. She needs to be put in her place." She paused before adding, "Plus, I know you're stressed out right now and I'm glad that that explosion wasn't aimed at me." Kurt smiled slightly before staring off into the distance, glad that he had boarded up the back of the bookshelf for privacy. Santana placed her hand on his shoulder, "Want to talk about any of it?"

Kurt closed his eyes and shook his head, "No, but thank you for the concern, Santana." He fluttered his eyes open, looking into her dark brown ones as she held her sympathetic gaze, giving in as he started to vent, "Do you ever feel like you're stuck because there's nowhere else to move forward to? Do you ever feel like you've reached your limit? Like you're never going to top what you have now?"

"Sometimes I do, Hummel. But do you know what happens?" Kurt shook his head and watched Santana's steady gaze as she continued to speak, "Something always comes along and tops it. There's always something that can make life better. For example, Brit and I are making the long distance thing work and soon she'll be finished at MIT and we might move into a Manhattan apartment together. A 2-bedroom apartment. One bedroom would be available to anyone who wants it."

Kurt questioned, "Are you hinting that I should come live with you and Brittany when she moves to New York?"

Santana replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Yes, Hummel. Would you rather be here with no walls for privacy and noise-cancelling or in an apartment with walls where you can control your doses of Berry and Hudson?"

Kurt sat forward and hugged her, "I want the walls. I want the control. I want the privacy."

"I know you do. I may be a hardcore bitch, but I'm also a kick-ass friend." She patted him on the back before leaving his hug and standing up, "I'm making coffee. Do you want one?"

Kurt smiled as he sat back against the wall once more, "Are you able to make a non-fat mocha with what we have?"

Santana smiled back, "We always have your non-fat mocha available in the comfort of your own apartment."

"Thank you." Kurt mumbled as Santana drew the curtain back and walked over to the kitchen, only half closing the curtain as she left.

Kurt closed his eyes and thought about everything that had happened just during that morning alone. His mind was filled with so many thoughts and emotions that he was surprised that he wasn't in less control than he had just been. His mind began to drift to his happy place, a small park that he had once visited in Columbus with his dad a decade ago that may have been a distant memory, but it was where his mind wandered to when he needed to relax.

Santana returned a couple of minutes later, mug in hand. It was only when she sat on the bed by Kurt's feet that he opened his eyes and gladly accepted the mug she was holding out for him. After a couple more minutes of a comfortable silence as they nursed their drinks, Santana having made herself a latte, Kurt spoke up, "Should I be worried about this fashion show? I mean, it's Gucci. I've never modelled for them. It should excite me and yet, Anderson is making me feel insecure about it all."

"Okay, Hummel, let me stop you right there." Santana stretched her arm out to place her mug on the bedside table before continuing, "Anderson is trying to psych you out so that way you fail. He's playing these mind games in hope that you will do something wrong and that your reputation will be damaged as a result. But Auntie Tana won't let that happen because you are going to dump your agent for that night and take me with you so I can speak my mind to Anderson if he even puts his pinky out of line."

Kurt smiled sheepishly, "So what should I do until then?"

Kurt knew the smirk Santana was wearing. He knew that she reserved it for when she was about to put one of her devious plans into action. She kept her smirk as she responded, "Right now, we start playing mind games too."

She took her phone out of her pocket and typed in her pass code before opening the Twitter app. Kurt's voice shook as he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Tweeting Anderson a piece of my mind."

Kurt attempted to snatch the phone off of Santana, but with no success, "Santana, you can't. We're better than this. You've come so far from the bitch you were in high school and stooping to his level is making you return to that."

Santana feigned offence as she gasped, "You did not just call me a bitch."

"No," Kurt said steadily as he attempted to take Santana's phone once more, "I implied that you used to be a bitch. Anyway, you admitted yourself not 10 minutes ago that you are. At least I've put that side of you in the past."

Santana chuckled slightly, "Come on, Hummel. Just one tweet. Then we'll spend the rest of the month ignoring any of his tweets and not even communicate with him in the slightest."

Kurt sighed in defeat and looked over Santana's shoulder as she typed:

_ BlaineAndersonNY Let me know when you've removed your head from your ass_

Before Kurt could stop her, she tweeted it. He said with concern, "That was a bit over the top, Santana."

"Relax, Hummel. It's not like it's worse than his constant insults at us." Santana pointed out.

Kurt was unable to think of a response so instead he just sat back and continued to sip his mocha whilst he thought about what the feud even meant in the first place. It was mainly between him and Blaine as they were both vying for the top spot in the fashion scene. Neither of them could stand to share the spotlight and that was the main issue. It didn't help that they both had different aspects of themselves that were sought for by designers and photographers citywide. Blaine had this bad boy attitude, which made him appear sexy and hence all the women love his photo shoots, and therefore the designers have a regular increase in clientele. But Kurt brings something that Blaine will never have: grace. Everything about Kurt may not have given him a bad boy persona, but instead he has fallen into the graceful category, where every photo was as if he was an angel from above, or so he had been told. The more he thought about the contrast, the more he realised that Blaine and him were like heaven and hell. The question that buzzed through Kurt's mind was what would happen if heaven and hell were to collide?

And he knew he was going to find out soon. It was set in stone. And even if it wasn't for Gucci, they would have to meet at some point, wouldn't they? That's what Kurt believed anyway. There would have been something else, where he would finally be able to judge Blaine through what he had seen face-to-face and not what he had witnessed through interviews and obnoxious tweets.

And for all Kurt knew, he could be able to convince Blaine that it wasn't the end of the world that they were both a huge success, because they were both doing well in this business and that's all that should matter. Kurt believed that the art itself was more important that who was the better model, even if at times his mind was caught in the competition.

Soon, the New York fashion scene would be at peace, or so Kurt believed.

* * *

_**Teen Vogue - April 2013 edition**_

_**PAGE 8 - KURT HUMMEL'S JOURNEY INTO MODELLING**_

_**Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, 23, was born and raised in Ohio throughout his entire childhood. Throughout his four-year career, we have heard about many small facts about Kurt: he's openly gay, he didn't have an easy time growing up and he originally wanted to be on Broadway. We caught up with Kurt in our Manhattan office where he answered some of our need-to-know questions as well as striking a few poses for us.**_

_**VOGUE: How would you describe your childhood?  
**__Kurt: I don't really know where to start. It was different from the typical small-town kid. In Ohio, if you're seen as special or different in any way, the world seems to make it their mission to make you feel small and unimportant. I spent a lot of my childhood reassuring myself that being different from the other boys was okay, and I had supportive parents to guide me through that. They embraced me as I was and were always there for me when I needed support._

_**VOGUE: You've been snapped by the paparazzi all the time with your dad whenever he visits, but never with your mom. Why is that?  
**__Kurt: It's still not that easy for me to talk about it but my mom died in a car accident when I was just 7 years old, and in a way I blame myself for it. It was having a bad day, having lost my first ever designer jacket when I had put it down in the playground at school that morning. So my mom went to the store to get me my favourite ice cream and on her way back, a drunk driver crashed into her car head-on. Needless to say, it was the worst day of my life and I miss my mom every day._

_**VOGUE: Do you think she would have been proud of you if she were still alive?  
**__Kurt: I'd like to think that. From what I remember of her, she was the most caring person ever, and no matter what I did, whether it was practising chords on the piano or if I had drawn an awful representation of her, she'd always smile and praise me. I guess that's one of the things I love about her. No matter what, she never made me feel bad, and that's why I believe she would be proud._

_**VOGUE: How was it when you came out of the closet?  
**__Kurt: Terrible. Absolutely terrible. I came out during sophomore year because my good friend, Mercedes Jones (who I should mention has her third fabulous album release later this year), had developed a crush on me. Needless to say, I felt uncomfortable about the entire thing. At the same time though, I felt it was the right moment in my life to do it, otherwise for all I know, I could have still been in the closet._

_**VOGUE: What were your friends like during high school?  
**__Kurt: Well, they were all performers, seeing as my social circle was entirely made up of Glee Club members. They were the only people who accepted me throughout high school. They were all very talented, although I wouldn't have admitted it to them back then, and they were dramatic, threatening to quit every other week, but in a sense they felt like family to me. A lot of them still do. I love all the memories I have with them, and I'm still in touch with all of them, especially [Broadway Star] Rachel, [drama teacher] Finn__and [female model] Santana__ seeing as I live with them._

_**VOGUE: How did you decide to go into modelling?  
**__Kurt: Well after I auditioned for NYADA in hope to pursue Broadway acting and didn't get in, my dad pushed me into going to New York anyway to figure everything out once I got here. I moved in with Rachel who then told me about how [our parent company] __ was looking for interns. So I went for the interview and ended up working with Isabelle Wright, who I love to bits. She helped me realise my eye for fashion. However, everyone else in the company kept on thinking I was a model and so were guiding me to photo shoots, and after a long talk with Isabelle and then my dad, I decided it was my new dream, and now here I am._

_**VOGUE: Within this business comes plenty of competition. What do you have to say about your main rival, Blaine Anderson?  
**__Kurt: I've never had the pleasure of meeting Blaine because he's constantly applying for the same jobs as me, but I can't deny that he's good-looking. I believe we're both attending the Gucci Summer Collection Show at the end of the month, so maybe I'll find out who the man behind the competition really is._

_**VOGUE: Where do you see yourself in 10 years time?  
**__Kurt: Well, I think I would be too old for modelling by that point, so maybe I would go into designing the clothes like I initially intended to with my internship at Vogue dot com__; I think it would be good for me to not change my career path too much as that way I don't have to make any dramatic lifestyle changes, such as changing my sleeping pattern or finding an apartment closer to work. I know where the majority of the designers are based and they are all easy for me to get to, so I can continue to inspire the fashion world in another way with plenty of ease._

_**VOGUE: Do you think you'll be back at Teen Vogue soon for another catch-up?  
**__Kurt: Of course, it's always a pleasure to visit any Vogue department. Your entire company is so friendly and I enjoy just visiting the offices, never mind the interviews and photoshoots. Vogue always has such a great energy and I used to love working here full-time. Thank you for being so welcoming as usual. This is one of the best parts to a modelling career: the positive energy you get in these offices. It's a great experience, some of the best years of my life._

* * *

**A/N: **So there we have it. The beginning of a new fanfic. I hope you enjoyed it and will stick around for this one too if you read my other fanfics. Please let me know what you think and review :) - foreveragleek44


	2. Gucci

**A/N:** HAPPY NEW YEAR, READERS! I know it's a bit late to say that, what with being 4 days into 2014 after all. I hope the year is treating you well so far and I hope everyone's winter holidays have been pleasant.

I know I took my sweet old time writing this (and everyone who reads my other fanfics will know this is typical of me) but it's because I'm a perfectionist when it comes to my writing and if it isn't up to my usual standards, I actively refuse to publish it. I've finally got it right though (I think) so I hope you enjoy! :)

**Warning:** small amounts of strong language in this chapter

* * *

The weeks passed and the end of the month fast approached. The night before the Gucci Summer Collection show was when it sunk in for Kurt. All that stood in the way from meeting the mysterious Blaine Anderson was tonight. He was nervous; there was no way of denying it to himself, even if he spent the entire evening convincing his roommates that he was fine.

What didn't help is that he wasn't going to get an early night. That much was apparent when he heard the familiar squeak of Santana's bed being wheeled out of Finchel's area. He groaned to himself as he turned over in his bed, facing towards his opaque maroon curtain. Right on cue, the curtain was pulled back with great force and Santana aggressively pushing her bed to the foot of Kurt's. She strutted over to the curtain and yanked it back over, as they both tried to ignore the moans coming from two curtains over.

Santana threw herself onto Kurt's bed and wrapped her arm around his waist. At first, Kurt raised an eyebrow at her before burying his face into her shoulder and let out a stressful sigh. Santana quietly spoke, "I know that you're not looking forward to tomorrow."

"I just-" Kurt murmured, "What if something goes wrong?"  
Santana began to speak until she was cut off by a moan and a series of bed spring squeaks. They could tell that Finn and Rachel were trying to be quiet but there was only so far that one could be quiet in that situation. She waited for the noise to die down before speaking again, "It won't. I'll be there, Hummel. I will go all Lima Heights on that asshole if he deliberately goes out of his way to ruin this for you. It's your first time at Gucci, so don't think about him and make the most of it."

Kurt nodded into the pillow. He knew that Santana was right. There he was, worrying about his rival's actions when he knew deep down that with her there, he wouldn't dare put a toe out of line. Kurt got lost in his thoughts, laying in silence save for the noises at the other end of the apartment. It wasn't until it all died down that either of them spoke again. Santana said quietly, "What happened to your inner diva? Modelling has made you soft, Hummel. 5, 6, 7 years ago, you were battling against Berry for solos all the time. In fact, even just 6 months ago, you were strutting down the Vogue catwalk as if you owned it. Where has that spark gone?"

Kurt mumbled, "I don't know. I guess it's just nerves. It's not every day you meet your rival after all."

"Hummel, look at me," Kurt raised an eyebrow in response to that demand seeing as he hadn't turned his head since Santana joined him, "If he does anything bad, it will only damage his reputation, not yours. If he wants to be a dick about it then so be it, but it won't reflect badly on you."

"But, what if he's more attractive in person?" Kurt asked sheepishly.

That was the moment it clicked in Santana's head. She couldn't believe she hadn't made the link before, what with Kurt constantly defending Blaine and the many times she had caught him "checking up" on the competition. Santana's eyes widened, "Oh my god. You like him. You're intimidated by him because you like him. That's why you can't bitch about him with me, because you can't bring yourself to do it."

Kurt could feel his cheeks heating up, "I don't like him, Santana. I just have a little crush.

"It's the same thing."

"No, it's not. A crush is about the idea or fantasy of a relationship with them. Liking someone requires you to know the person and everything they have to offer," Kurt argued, but he knew it was no use, because once Santana knew or believed something, it was never lived down. Kurt would admit that she had toned it down quite a bit, except when it came to his love life apparently. He sighed as he continued, "On Twitter and Tumblr and fanfiction websites, I see people wanting us to be together and photo edits of us two, or manips as they seem to call them, and I don't know. In a way, it could make sense."

Santana sat up, causing Kurt to sit up too so he could look her in the eyes as they continued the conversation. He could tell it was going to turn into something deep and meaningful just by the way Santana's eyes had glazed over a little bit, like they always did before a serious conversation. A few years ago, Kurt wouldn't have known that, but she was one of his best friends now, and as much as Santana didn't like to be open, she could be read like a book by the people close to her.

She sighed quietly, "When did you realise you have a crush on him? Was it before or after you first found all this shipping?" Kurt raised an eyebrow at that before she clarified, "That's the technical term for members of a fanbase wanting two people together, whether they actually are or not."

Kurt shook his head. He didn't even understand how a model could have a fanbase as it was and yet, here he was. It was fame in an unconventional way and he hated being in the limelight at times.

"Well," he replied, "It was before I went online to see all of it, even before I knew there were forums dedicated to us, never mind all the other crap."

"But you found that out just a week after his first magazine shoot?"

Kurt bit his lip and looked down, becoming embarrassed and coy. He was sure that his face was beginning to resemble that of a red traffic light, emitting its own light source in the darkness of their apartment. His voice was quiet to not attract Rachel's attention, because he was sure that she might be listening in now, "I know, I know. But despite him resenting me ever since, there's always been that mild attraction to him. I know we'd never be together. I hate his attitude after all and I'm sure his personality matches. I mean, if the shoe fits. You have nothing to worry about, but those photo edits make us look good together so I can fantasise about him being a good guy. But it won't happen, Santana. Never."

Santana let an honest smile spread across her face, "I just want you to be happy, Hummel. Anyway, sometimes a little attraction to the competition never hurt anybody. Just don't let him distract you, or get on your nerves either for that matter," she pulled Kurt into a hug, "I will support you with whatever decision you make with any relationship. You know that. Just don't let Rachel in on this, okay?"

Kurt laughed as he lay back down again, Santana mirroring his movement, "Love you, Santana."

"I know," she gave Kurt the opportunity to roll his eyes before continuing, "I love you too. You're going to kill it tomorrow because your diva side is going to make a return. I can sense it."

Kurt chuckled lightly as a yawn threatened to break out, "I really hope you're right."  
They lay in silence for a few minutes before Santana's breathing changed. Kurt knew she was asleep. This was a common occurrence following Finchel sex; Santana would stay here for the night as she couldn't deal with the afterglow and extra cuteness that they appeared to exuded in the sleeping afterglow. Sometimes, much like tonight, Santana would forget to move back into her own bed and, as much as Kurt loved Santana, he still didn't want to be sharing a bed with a woman. At least Santana never moved in her sleep and would remain tucked up in the ball she was currently positioned in for the entire night. It made it a little easier for Kurt as he turned over, slipped under his comforter and pretended that she wasn't there at all.

It was a few hours before Kurt felt his eyelids start to droop, and even then he knew he wouldn't fall asleep anytime soon, if at all tonight. His mind was reeling in thoughts of Blaine Anderson and how such a mysterious-looking man (Teen Vogue was right in saying he's subtly sexy) could have such a cold heart. All the 'badasses' he had come across in his lifetime had turned out to have a soft side: Santana, Puck & his brother, Sue Sylvester, even Lauren Zizes to some extent. Yet since day one, Blaine hadn't shown even the slightest element of letting his guard down.  
As Kurt thought about it, he began to think that there are people like Blaine Anderson in this world. There are always going to be people who are too arrogant to realise that they aren't the centre of the world. That was Kurt's last thought as tiredness outweighed his worry and he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Blaine strutted down the corridor, sunglasses on, leather jacket slung over shoulder, coffee in his hand, with Nick and Jeff in tow. He had insisted that if anyone was to do his makeup for this event, it would be Jeff. Gucci didn't complain seeing as Jeff was a freelance makeup artist, hired for certain events by any fashion businesses or sometimes even for television and film. Nick, meanwhile, was there for the same reason that Santana was there for Kurt, as his assistant for the day.

The grey corridor was lined with white doors and fluorescent lighting, with fashion designers and event coordinators rushing around in the flurry of excitement that was a seasonal collection showcase. Blaine's eyes darted to each door in search of the sticker with his name.

Chandler Kiehl: timid, cowardly, overly geeky, new to the fashion world; Blaine knew he wouldn't last much longer.

Eli Collins: his muscles bulged under whatever he wore and he couldn't follow instructions; Blaine shuddered at the memory of his one-night stand, but knew that Eli would avoid him at all costs. His muscles may have been large, but Eli knew that Blaine had enough sass and attitude to sink a battleship.

Elliot Gilbert: Too over-the-top, especially since he released an album; maybe he should stick to singing instead.

Kurt Hummel: Blaine paused at the door and almost decided to go in, finally able to face his main rival. He decided against it for now and opted to go get dressed into the best outfit in the collection so he could gloat to his nemesis.

He turned to look at the door behind him, seeing his name and entering without knocking, knowing that Raul would be waiting for him. Except Raul wasn't waiting for him.

Instead, Blaine was met with a short blonde woman, flicking through Time magazine. That with a combination of her thick-rimmed glasses, Blaine was almost certain she wasn't going to take any crap.

Blaine stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her, Jeff and Nick bumping into him as he stood in the centre of the doorway. Blaine ignored their mumbles of irritation and instead focused on what this meant. The only words Blaine could find was, "You're not Raul."

The woman looked up from the magazine before tossing it aside onto the sofa, "No, I'm not. I'm Stella," she stood and raised a hand for Blaine to shake, who reluctantly accepted, "I can assure you that Raul will come to see you when he gets the chance. He's just dealing with the signature design right now, but will be joining us shortly."  
"He's dealing with the signature design? But this is Gucci? I always have the signature design. Who even- Oh! I see," Blaine spluttered as he came to terms with what was happening.

Before he even had the chance to think, Blaine had spun around, pushed his coffee into Nick's hand, and was now banging on Kurt Hummel's door, "Hummel, open up! I know you're behind this!"

Blaine wasn't surprised when the door was swung open to be faced with Santana Lopez. Of course Santana Lopez would be there; what else was he meant to expect? Santana was giving him her best bitch smirk, a smirk that Blaine didn't feel had any effect on him at all. She said flatly, "Hello there, Anderson. What a pleasant surprise. I mean, who wouldn't want the presence of an asshole in their dressing room?"

"That's rich coming from you," Blaine replied, "Where's Hummel? He needs to switch outfits with me."

Santana blocked the doorway as Blaine tried to get in, "Oh, no no no. You see, Kurt has rightfully earned his spot in modelling and doesn't need to act more obnoxious than the Biebs to even get a little recognition in his career. So how about you and your minions return across the hall to your 'I'm the victim here' party and maybe learn how to act like a decent human being before I go all Lima Heights. Understand?"

"Oh please, you haven't been back to Lima in 3 years. As if you even remember how Lima Heights is."

Santana took a step forward, her teeth gritted, "Now you listen to me, Ander-"

"Santana," a high male voice resounded from further into the room, "be nice. He's just upset is all. You can't blame him."

Santana pursed her lips before pointing a manicured finger into Blaine's chest, "Count your lucky stars that Kurt has a heart of gold. You'd have been scarred for life by now if it were up to me."

"Santana, will you tie my shoe laces please? Raul says if I bend down, I'll crease the suit and he's tweaking my hair right now."

Santana called back, "Coming. You," she turned back to Blaine briefly, "you had better watch it."

And then the door was slammed in his face. For a while, he just stared at the door, anger flooding into his mind. It was only when Nick took his arm and steered him back into his dressing room that he had chosen to move, and even then it was only because he knew he only had so much time before he would be out on the runway.

Blaine knew what he had to do. He wasn't giving up that easily.

* * *

Kurt stood looking in the mirror at his outfit for the day. When Raul had described it as the "signature design", he had expected an outlandish outfit with elaborate patterns and excessive accessories. Instead, he was dressed in an ochre shirt and cobalt blue suit, with a slightly lighter blue tie and black dress shoes. He tilted his head as he examined the outfit, unsure whether or not making his hair seem windswept was a good decision on Raul's part. But he wasn't going to question it. He could tell Raul knew what he was on about and knew he was in more than capable hands.

He chewed his lip nervously as his mind suddenly began to race. 4 and a half years ago, Kurt hadn't even thought that he would be here. His life had turned around majorly, taking an odd yet enjoyable twist that he knew would one day come to end. He had heard about the risks of becoming a model and had yet to come across any, becoming very well off by way of wages with every photoshoot he had. He had beaten the odds of ever having the rumour mill misconstrue something in his life, only ever having the media cover one certain rivalry, which was very much true. He would admit that he had a lucky streak since the disappointment of a NYADA rejection.

Only all that was about to come crashing down.

He overheard the way Blaine had spoken when he had found out that Kurt was wearing the signature design, and he did not sound happy in the slightest. Santana had sorted it for now, but he knew on the runway Santana wouldn't be able to help. It didn't want to think about what would happen if Blaine was to be in the line-up directly before him or god forbid directly afterwards. He may become victim to dagger eyes or an evil smirk, anything that could catch him off guard and screw up his psyche.

There was a knock on the door. Kurt curiously called, "Who is it?"

Upon instinct, he knew it wasn't Santana because she would just storm in and had left the room to go take her seat out by the runway anyway. Raul had gone to talk to the venue owner about adjusting the lighting in the runway room. Blaine would have just stormed in and began to yell abuse at him.

The door opened tentatively and Jeff poked his head into the room, "Hey, Kurt."

Kurt smiled as he adjusted his slightly askew tie, "Oh hi. How have you been, Jeff?"

"Not too bad," Jeff stepped into the room, "I just wanted to wish you luck out there today. I get that Blaine may have sounded intimidating and I don't want that to affect you."

Kurt chuckled lightly, "Thank you for the concern, but I think I'm going to be okay."

Kurt could almost see the tension from Jeff's shoulders being lifted in the reflection of the mirror. He then saw Jeff nodding in approval, "If it's any consolation, you look amazing."

"Why thank you," Kurt responded, "I owe it all to Gucci, especially Raul. They certainly have an eye for fashion," he paused for a moment before adding, "something that we have in common. Will you tell Blaine good luck from me and I hope there are no hard feelings?"

Jeff replied, "I will, but I can't guarantee that there are no hard feelings. He's basically the one fuelling the feud after all."

There was another knock on the door, a petite woman dressed completely in black with a Bluetooth earpiece hooked firmly on her ear was now in the doorway, "We're ready for you, Mr Hummel."

Kurt sighed and straightened himself out, tilting his head from side to side in hope to relieve some of the tension that had formed in his neck since he had entered the building. It was just nerves, that's all it was. That's what he kept telling himself anyway.

When he turned around, he saw that Jeff had already left, probably to take his seat by the runway. He was hoping for Jeff to give him one last calming comment before leaving but it clearly wasn't meant to be. He walked towards the door and followed the woman out into the hallway to see all the other models waiting outside their doors with other event coordinators. The only model missing was Blaine. Kurt lightly huffed at Blaine's diva-esque attitude.

Eventually, the door on the opposite side of the hallway opened, Blaine and his coordinator stepping out to stand next to them. Kurt gave Blaine a slight nod, but he was completely ignored. It didn't surprise him.

What surprised him was the sudden quick pace his pulse had adopted the second he saw Blaine Anderson in person for the first time. The theory that Blaine wasn't as attractive in person came crashing down on him like a spontaneous hailstorm. His heart both constricted and fluttered at the same time. Blaine's eyes, despite the irritated expression, glowed like honey reflecting sunlight. His jaw line was well-defined, although tensed because of Kurt's presence. The way the black polo shirt and ochre pants clung to his body made Kurt almost visibly squirm. And Blaine's lips; Kurt shook his head to pull himself out of those thoughts before it was too late.

He reminded himself of the foul personality underneath and waited until Blaine was being led down the corridor by his coordinator, following close behind with his own. Blaine would be going just before him so Kurt had to focus on not being tripped up or shoved in passing. So long as he kept professional whilst dodging whatever would be headed his way, everything would run smoothly.

That was something he was sure of.

* * *

Blaine had chosen to ignore Hummel instead of deciding to start anything in the corridor. Once he had seen how they were ordered, he knew that he could get his own back for everything out on the runway. He stood in line in the darkness or the wings waiting for his time to come. The deep bass of the music resounded around the entire venue, the standard beat for any collection show these days.

It wasn't long before his time came. He quickly cast a smirk over his shoulder to Hummel before taking the step up into the bright spotlights of the runway. It always took a second to readjust to the sudden change in light, so he always tried to focus on finding someone he knew in the audience to gather his bearings. Just as his eyes fully adjusted, Elliot brushed passed him and off into the darkness of the other wing, leaving all the attention on Blaine.

He took a deep breath to calm his temper. He wasn't nervous. He never was. There was no reason to even be nervous when he's been in the same profession day in day out for the past four years of his life.

He began his usual strut down the runway, one hand on his hip, the other swinging at his side as he walked. Yet the anger didn't wash away. This should be Hummel here and now with him waiting in the wings in the blue and ochre clothing. He should have known better than to let his emotions get the better of him as he reached the end of the catwalk. The lack of professionalism that acting on his emotions out in the open entailed could put a permanent mark on his career.

He stood for a moment, surveying the audience gathered for the occasion. Acclaimed designers and retired models all sat in amongst magazine reporters and those related to the industry. He attempted to wear a sultry expression but he could sense that his anger was cutting through, even if it was only to people who had worked with him previously.

He transferred his weight onto the other side, switching sides with his hand-on-hip stance for turning and slowly walking back towards the wings. That's when he saw him.

Hummel began his walk out to the end of the runway, strutting with an elegance Blaine despised with a great passion. As he passed Blaine, he did a breezy twirl, hitting their shoulders together and causing Blaine to be thrown off balance. Blaine almost fell over but managed to steady himself, but the anger boiled over and he couldn't stop himself from being unprofessional at this point.

He turned around and walked after Hummel, grinding his teeth out of hatred for the man walking in front of him. His steps broke out into a jog as he pounced on Hummel, both of them toppling to the floor. As Hummel rolled over, shock on his face and fear in his eyes, Blaine grabbed him by the shirt collar, "Is that how you're going to play this, Hummel? Trying to make me seem not up to scratch anymore?"

Hummel squeaked as Blaine tightened his grip, "I swear, Blaine, I didn't mean to-"

_Slap._

Before Blaine knew what he had done, he found his hand raised above his head and a bright pink splotch forming on Hummel's cheek. He threw his hand down to reconnect with Hummel's face, this time clenching into a fist, a clean hit on Hummel's cheekbone. Blaine was mildly relieved that it wasn't hard enough to break the bone. He didn't need a lawsuit after all.

He almost stopped for the second punch once he saw the way in which tears were collecting on Hummel's lower eyelashes, mascara smeared under his eyes.

It was something Blaine had always hated, the mascara they had to wear when under the lights. Guyliner he approved of, mainly because he actually looked super hot with it on. Mascara just clumps. Blaine hated the clumps.

Hummel was squirming underneath him, desperate to move away before Blaine could throw another punch. He was trying everything: kneeing Blaine in the back; pushing at his stomach; wriggling his hips. Blaine knew he had Hummel, and he knew that this advantage could help to scare Hummel out of the modelling business once and for all.

Before his hand could follow through again, someone had grabbed hold of him and pulled him off of Hummel. He was now being shoved down the runway, silence filling the room save for his and two other people's footsteps.

Once they got into the dressing rooms' corridor, they didn't stop. They kept walking to the exit. They didn't stop to allow Blaine to get changed and as soon as they were out the door, Blaine's car was already waiting for him. Blaine, Nick and Jeff all climbed into the car, thankfully into the privacy of tinted windows so that he couldn't be seen.

The weirdest part of the entire situation wasn't the tension between everyone he now had to face or the media coverage that would be received. It was the regret of making Hummel feel fearful that was getting to him. He could see it now that his blind rage was over and he felt the guilty lump in his throat. He wasn't sure if he understood or simply didn't want to understand, but all he knew was that Hummel's facial expression was imprinted in his mind now. The way his eyes shone with tears, almost pleading him not to lash out. The way his mouth hung open, almost suggesting that he hadn't realised what he had done, that it was an accident and he wanted to apologise for it. The way his skin became even paler, his usually rosy cheeks resembling that of crisp white snow. All of it was making Blaine's head stitch the feeling of guilt and regret in his mind, and it wasn't even for his career; it was for Hummel's wellbeing.

Blaine dropped his head into his hands for the rest of the car ride back to his Manhattan apartment in Chelsea, desperate for his feelings to go away and return to his usual hatred for Hummel. He wanted to not feel like a human should in this situation. He wanted to feel cold and heartless and pleased with himself for finally getting his own back after endless reasons to give Hummel what was coming to him. And yet, he couldn't stop himself from feeling the exact opposite.

The car ride was silent, and the walk up to their apartment was no different. Blaine knew he'd screwed up big time. He knew that Nick and Jeff wouldn't let it be swept under the rug. As soon as they were behind closed doors, Blaine knew he was going to be given hell and he wasn't feeling guilty enough to take their tirade. He prepared himself to put on a front, pretending he was the badass of the feud before going to sulk in his bedroom because he was probably going to lose everything he currently has. That's what the emotions were really all about. Hummel was a metaphor for his career. That's what it was.

Blaine walked through the door that Jeff was holding open for him, Nick following behind. He didn't look back when he heard the door slam behind him, and decided to continue straight to his bedroom, wanting to get out of these clothes for the time being. It was only when Nick grabbed him by the back of the collar and shoved him into a nearby armchair that he knew he wasn't going to get away from this until a long conversation about his (out-of-control) behaviour.

For a while, they just stared at him. More silence. Just what Blaine needed. How productive of Nick and Jeff. Not.

Eventually, he grew tired of the quiet and huffed out, "Just get it over with, guys. It's not like I'm going to give a damn whatever you say."

Nick threw his hands into his hair and gripped tightly, "That's exactly the problem, Blaine. You will just sit there and pretend you listen to us and not take anything onboard. You won't say anything to us during the conversation and then you'll shut yourself out from everyone for a few days pretending to be the victim."

"I don't think you understand the seriousness of the situation," Jeff said as he paced over to Nick to comfortingly snake his arm around his midriff, "Blaine, your career may be about to go down the toilet and you're just sitting there pretending that there isn't a problem. Your modelling days could be over, and good luck getting any job that requires you to be under the public eye any time soon. That includes sales and customer relations. That includes about 95% of jobs in New York."

Nick gritted his teeth as Blaine rolled his eyes, "Blaine Devon Anderson, don't you roll your eyes at us. You know fully well that this bad boy attitude is only going to lengthen the conversation."

"Why did you do it?" Jeff sighed.

Blaine clenched his hands at the memory, "He shoved me. Didn't you see it? He shoved me, and I'm the bad guy here, apparently."

Jeff sighed again before moving away from his boyfriend and sitting on the arm of Blaine's armchair, "I did see it. But I also saw Kurt's face when he did it. He instantly regretted it. I think he just misjudged where you were. He always does that twirl mid-strut. It's his signature move. I think that you overreacted big time, especially considering you don't know the full story."

Blaine frowned, "He meant to do it. You know he meant to. He acts all innocent but he's a part of this feud too. He knew I would lose it. He knew I would react."

"Blaine," Nick said weakly as he took a seat on the other arm of the chair, "what is this really about?"

He blinked in confusion, "Excuse me?"

"What is this really about?"

"I have no idea what you mean."

Jeff cut in impatiently, "It means, like me, Nick has been reading you like a book this whole time and we know there's an ulterior motive behind it, even if you yourself don't know it yet."

"Are you actually kidding me?" Blaine replied through gritted teeth, "Are you really doing this?"

Nick responded, "We know you, Blaine. We went to the same high school, for fuck sake. When you don't open up to us completely, we know you aren't. So cut the crap."

"I don't know what you want me to say," Blaine closed his eyes and began to rub the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Jeff straightened out Blaine's collar, causing him to open his eyes wide and stare at Jeff, "How about you just tell us what's gotten into you? You've never been this annoyed about the entire feud up until today. We just want to know you're okay, Blaine."

"You know what," Blaine shot up out of the chair and turned to his friends, his mind reeling in fiery anger, "You want to know what's going on? Well, fine. No one can be that perfect. Not a single person on this planet can be as perfect as Hummel and yet there he is, being all inspirational and smart and cheery and elegant and freaking beautiful all the time. What's going on is that I have to go around knowing that he's perfect in every single way, and I have to know this even though I don't personally know him. I have to accept that Hummel is possibly the single most beautiful man that I have ever seen and I kind of just hoped I could hit it out of him and... Why are you guys staring at me like that?"

Jeff responded sheepishly, "Think about what you just said," Blaine wrinkled his brow in confusion, "you basically just admitted to having a crush on Kurt."

Blaine's eyes widened, "No, I didn't. I most certainly did not. I definitely didn-"

He gripped onto a nearby bookcase before sliding down to the floor. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders but now he was panicking. He wasn't feeling this. He couldn't be feeling this. He wasn't allowed to feel this way. Hummel was his rival and yet there he was, admitting not only to Jeff and Nick, but to himself as well that he thought Kurt was beautiful and perfect. Blaine whispered to himself, "You have got to be kidding me. Stop this, Anderson. Stop right now."

He buried his head in between his knees and could feel the presence of Nick and Jeff looming on either side of him. For a long time, he didn't move. He stayed in between his knees alone with his thoughts.

If what happened at the show earlier today hadn't ruined his career, then this certainly would. He had a crush on Kurt Hummel, and there was no going back now.

* * *

Kurt lay on his bed, face down in his pillow. He wanted today to have never have happened at all. The throbbing bruise on his cheek would soon disappear but the searing angst of this day would be a memory forever, and he wasn't sure if he could bounce back from it.

He didn't cry. He refused to shed a single tear. If he had just been more careful with how he twirled, he wouldn't have accidentally nudged Blaine to begin with. He knew it was partially his fault. Santana had told him repeatedly in the car that "Anderson is a dickhead", but the fact of the matter was that after seeing Blaine in person, he could tell that deep down he was far from it. Kurt could almost see a shield in Blaine's eyes as he hovered over him in his outrage. His body language may have appeared as moody and obnoxious ever since they first laid eyes on each other in the hallway, but Kurt knew that there was the real Blaine Anderson somewhere inside that just needed to break out.

Kurt heard the curtain draw back and immediately sighed, his voice muffled, "Santana, you know I'm not in the mood. Just leave me here to close myself off from the world for a few more hours."

"I would do," Finn chuckled, "if my name was Santana and I wasn't concerned about you."

Kurt didn't move from his position at all. He lay completely still in hope that Finn would eventually leave him alone. He was mistaken. Instead, he felt the bed dip slightly on his left side and then a lot of awkward shifting. He could tell Finn wanted to try and comfort him but just didn't know where to begin. A surprising statement eventually slipped from Finn's mouth, "I know you like Anderson."

Kurt turned his head in alarm, "I'm going to kill Santana."

"Santana didn't have to tell me, Kurt. It's been obvious to me for a while now," Finn replied, "I've learnt many things from becoming a teacher, including how to read people. It comes with the job in some respects, I guess," he turned his body slightly to face Kurt a little more, "it's easy to spot once you know the signs. Look, Kurt, I can't tell you what to do. If I could, you'd be carrying me everywhere on a chariot-"

Kurt burst out laughing with a smile forming on his face as a result, "You can't be serious, Finn?"

Finn let his lips tilt into his trademark half-smile, "No, I just wanted to see my bro smile. Anyway, I can't tell you what to do, but I can suggest that you should to talk to Anderson about what went down, and more importantly, why it even happened. You should also discuss a resolution to the problem, and also attempt to end whatever this feud is. It isn't healthy for either of your careers anymore, especially considering its become physical now. And if you think it will help you to get everything out in the open, you should tell him about your attraction, no matter how arrogant he seems to be," he paused for a few seconds before realising that Kurt wasn't going to reply, "Just think about it, okay?"

Without another word, Finn got up from the bed and began to walk out the partition. Kurt called after him, still lying on the bed, "Hey Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Kurt responded.

"Always here for you, bro," Finn murmured as he rounded the corner into the living room partition to where Rachel was probably watching a musical and Santana was probably sulking in one of their recliners because "Anderson is a dickhead" according to her.

It took a few minutes for Kurt to make a decision on how to approach the situation. He lay there as his mind flooded with memories of the day:

_Is that how you're going to play this, Hummel?_

_Anderson is a dickhead._

_You should talk to Anderson about what went down, and more importantly, why it even happened._

_Attempt to end this feud._

_Just think about it, yeah?_

The comments rushed through his mind on a constant loop, slowly driving him insane. Eventually though, he had managed to come to a decision about how to approach the situation. He rolled over and whipped his phone out of his tracksuit trousers' pocket, knowing that he was going to have to face Blaine, and the sooner it happened the better it would be.

* * *

_**To: Jeff Sterling**_  
_Hey Jeff, I need Blaine's number - Kurt_

**_From: Jeff Sterling_**  
_Are you sure that's wise? What even for? - Jeff_

_**To: Jeff Sterling**_  
_Pranks... Telemarketing... Fraud... Science... - Kurt_

**_To: Jeff Sterling_**  
_No, but seriously, it's clear that we need to talk about what happened today, and I'm going to give him a time and a place. But I have no contact details for him, so your help would be appreciate, Sterling - Kurt_

_**From: Jeff Sterling**_  
_Here, Blaine's number. Just don't give him the option of saying no. You have to demand that he meets you. He'll be stubborn otherwise - Jeff_

**_To: Jeff Sterling_**  
_Thanks, and noted - Kurt_

* * *

**_To: Blaine Anderson_**  
_Meet me at the Starbucks on Broadway and West 51st Street at midday tomorrow._

**_From: Blaine Anderson_**  
_Who is this? - Blaine_

**_To: Blaine Anderson_**  
_You'll know when you see me. Just remember, it's a public place we're meeting at._

**_From: Blaine Anderson_**  
_If this is Hummel, I swear down that Jeff is a goner - Blaine_

**_To: Blaine Anderson_**  
_Yes, because killing a friend is going to be oh so productive. Plus, if I am indeed Hummel, I now have evidence to hold against you in court._

_**From: Blaine Anderson**_  
_Whatever. Midday, Broadway and West 51st. Got it - Blaine_

**_To: Blaine Anderson_**  
_See you then._

* * *

**_To: Jeff Sterling_**  
_It's all set. Make sure he leaves in time to be in the Times Square area by midday - Kurt_

_**From: Jeff Sterling**_  
_That's a little out of your way, isn't it? - Jeff_

_**To: Jeff Sterling**_  
_Yes but it will also be busy so the likelihood of having our conversation overheard or even being spotted is reasonably slim - Kurt_

**_From: Jeff Sterling_**  
_Fair play, Hummel. We'll discuss how it went tomorrow night - Jeff_

**_To: Jeff Sterling_**  
_I expected nothing less - Kurt_

* * *

**A/N:** There you have it, guys. Chapter 2 of To Love Your Enemy. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review, or at least let me know what you think on Twitter or private messaging or something. Opinions are appreciated (even criticisms) because I believe that feedback helps you to become a better writer :)


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